Around this period a year ago, I ended up filming a television show in the company of three performers. There was a rapper of Ghanaian heritage, a major pop celebrity, and an acclaimed classical singer. It was deep midwinter. The previous evening, I celebrated a close friend's milestone birthday, crammed into the function room of a pub somewhere in Surrey. It was an enjoyable evening, yet now, to break the silence, I questioned ways to dodge the common cold as numerous attendees were contributing to a chorus of sniffles and coughs. On a side note, why do certain individuals blow their noses so loudly, and some do not? A question for another day.
The Response by the Three Performers
At mention of my night out, the group of artists in the TV green room took two actions. First, they shrunk away from me slightly. Next, they engaged in a feverishly enthusiastic discussion on how to avoid catching colds that naturally enough given their line of work was something of an obsession for them. I get that, but I'm also deeply invested – I must avoid colds at all costs because the colds I get are worse than anyone else’s. I don’t have a medical certificate to confirm this, but I know it to be true. My illnesses drag on. My nose is more blocked, I have a more irritated throat, my coughing fits are louder, barkier and apparently endless. My relatives, familiar with the early throat signs which herald the coming storm, often shoo me away or clear the room themselves. When I worked as a sports broadcaster, my poor colleagues in the studio gallery learned to recognize the signals. “Headphones off!” the producer would yell to everyone before I deafened them all, overloading their audio gear.
Managing Blocked Noses
When it comes to congestion, don’t start me. Nasal sprays, decongestants, even the electric shock of fumes of boiling plum brandy my mum prescribes … they all work for a while until they fail. And there’s nothing as pitiable as the sound of a Birmingham accent delivered with no nasal airflow. That is, it's somewhat nasal on a good day. At least this elicits sympathy, though that's not necessarily beneficial. During my initial university year, without my mother's home remedies, the cleaner in our halls of residence took pity on me. “I’ve got just the thing for that, you unfortunate soul. I’ll be back in a minute.” She was wonderfully sweet, distinctly Irish, and very insistent that I ate the fresh, skinless onion she presented to me. She observed me eating it. Goodness gracious. No improvement resulted, I’m afraid, other than causing digestive turmoil and making my breath smell terrible.
The Mezzo-Soprano’s Cold Avoidance Regime
So no, I hate colds and am quite sure that prevention is better than the cures that traditional or modern, are ineffective. I listened intently together with the other artists while she explained her health practices. Due to upcoming holiday performances, she clearly took it all very seriously. She commanded us to sanitize hands regularly all winter long based on her explanation and, extra steps were needed when it came to parties and what not. Before any event, she recommended a couple of blasts of Vicks First Defence through the nasal passages – even if healthy. Intense. I like it. Moreover, she insisted on following it up after the party with another couple of squirts of the product.
The Results
I adopted the method. And I must admit I didn't sniffle all winter. There were drawbacks: the countless bottles of First Defence I bought, misplaced, reacquired, found, and so on. And the disappointing instant finding you've squashed the gel bottle stored in your pocket and it’s now splurging everywhere. Nevertheless, all a price worth paying. And now winter’s upon us again, I'm fully prepared with the mezzo-soprano’s recommended ordnance. I’m ready for battle.
